by Lacey Kane
I couldn’t decide if I envied the other women or felt sorry for them for that, which only further proved how I was accepting the life he’d assigned me to as somehow normal.
By that point, he’d stretched my insides to where he was leaving a twelve-inch-long, two-and-a-half-inch-wide dildo in my pussy any time it wasn’t otherwise occupied, and an eight-inch-long, two-inch-wide plug in my ass. Both of those would still pale in comparison to his chemically-enhanced cock, should he ever decide to put that in me, but at least I’d be better prepared to take him if and when that should happen.
None of the test subjects had cocks that came close to his in either length or girth. I knew that all too well, after sucking each and every one of them so many times I couldn’t count it all up anymore. Those cocks—all of them but his—had been inside every orifice I owned. He’d taken to tossing me onto the pallet with the test subjects without anything covering me but my collar, plus whatever bindings he’d settled upon for the day. Within minutes, I would always have all three holes filled…sometimes with more than one cock per hole.
Somehow, I’d even adjusted to performing my daily exercise routines with the toys inside me.
He’d also tested my skin’s reparative quality in every way imaginable. Or at least in every way I could imagine. His imagination seemed to know no bounds in terms of ways to abrade my flesh and then wait to see how long it would take for the marks to disappear. Each time he tested it, he told me he was checking to see just how far his shot would work, using me as an experiment of sorts. He’d used paddles, floggers, canes, whips—you come up with an implement with which to strike a body, and he’d used it on me a time or ten.
Each time, my skin would eventually turn red or blue or purple, sometimes almost black. The marks never lasted more than a day, though. He assured me this was incredibly uncommon. If he’d struck a woman who had not been enhanced as I had with equal fervor, the skin would have broken completely, the lines wouldn’t have faded for weeks or months, and there would have been ugly bruises for a week or more.
Not so with me, though.
Granted, I still felt as though I had those marks and bruises and abrasions. They were just phantom pains, though, lingering soreness from a fleeting moment of ecstasy.
Yes, that’s right. Ecstasy. The more he caused me pain, the more, the bigger, the harder I climaxed. Not only that, but my orgasms had taken to lasting for extensive periods. It wasn’t unusual anymore for one to last a half hour or longer, particularly if he was whipping me.
I’m not sure what it was about the whip, but that sting as it snapped into my flesh was the most exquisite, erotic torture I’d ever known.
At the moment, however, I wasn’t being whipped or spanked, or anything remotely euphoria-inducing. I was finishing my lunch of halibut, quinoa, and sautéed kale after an invigorating morning in the gym. Criss-crossing lines still covered my breasts from the sound thrashing he’d given me last night as I hung from the cross, but they’d faded to a lovely pink instead of the dark purple they’d started out as.
“Do you know what I have in store for you tonight, slave?” he asked me after tracing some of those lines with the tips of his fingers, the gentle touch still more than enough to awaken the phantom soreness to the point I nearly moaned in pain and need.
“No, Sir.”
My voice was permanently husky now, from all the screaming I’d done over the last month. I’d finally resigned myself to the fact that it was best to call him Sir, like he demanded, about a week into my enslavement. He liked it, and anything I could do to please him helped me.
He smiled—a look that made him way too sexy for my own good—and flicked my nipple with his fingertips until I gasped. “I have clients coming in from all over the world this afternoon. They’ll be here shortly for a demonstration of my products.”
There was no need for him to explain that I was the subject of the demonstration. That much was evident, given the fact that he’d injected me with most of those products.
I shivered slightly at the thought, unable to cover myself since my arms and legs were bound behind me as they always were while we ate. How many of his clients would there be? How did he intend to provide them with a demonstration?
After setting his fork and knife down on the table next to his plate, he drew the tips of his fingers over my bare pussy lips in a lazy pattern that sent me into a tizzy of need. Instead of drawing closer and touching my clitoris, though, he pressed his fingers lower to push up against the dildos inside me, forcing them deeper inside my body until I hissed in a breath.
“I think,” he said slowly, “since these clients have come in from all over the world, at a great cost, we ought to really give them what they came to see. After lunch I’m going to inject another dose of your sensitivity enhancer and the tightening solution. Doesn’t that sound good?”
Hot tears pricked at the backs of my eyes at the thought, and even though I shook my head no, I said, “Yes, Sir.” That was what he expected of me, and it was always better to do what he expected.
He smiled at me then, which was a rarity. “Yes. It will be an experience no one will ever forget.” Then he winked and picked up his fork and knife again, returning his attention to his meal. “Eat up,” he said between bites. “It will be your last meal for a while. You won’t have time to eat. The only way you’ll stay nourished and hydrated is through intravenous fluids, a feeding tube in your nose, and more cum than you’ve ever swallowed in your life…”
I knew better than to do anything less than take him at his word. If he said I wasn’t going to get to eat for a while, then it could be a day or two before he put me back in my chair in the dining room. It might even be longer than that—a week or more—if he was planning to provide me nourishment through a feeding tube. I ate every bite on my plate, licking the china after all the morsels were gone so that I didn’t leave anything behind.
When he had finished with his meal, he unhooked me and carried me to the shower, then strapped me to the steel device which would hold me in place for more shots.
He started by removing the dildo in my ass and pressing an alcohol wipe inside me to rub against me. The cold, stinging sensation was nothing compared to the shot that followed. As soon as he’d administered it, he pushed the dildo back inside, deep and hard, holding it there while the walls of my ass tightened and squeezed it so hard I could do nothing other than blubber incoherent words of thanks. I was never allowed to argue against my treatment—only thank him for it and beg for more.
A moment later, he moved in front of me and repeated the process with my cunt. It only took about a minute after he’d returned the dildo to my pussy before it had tightened so much it felt like the dildo must be two feet long and six inches wide. Tears poured down my cheeks as fast as a waterfall.
His hot mouth came down on my clit while he knelt before me, tongue and teeth and lips tearing at it until I shuddered into a painful orgasm.
He kept licking and sucking and biting and tugging on my clit for what had to be ten minutes or more. When he backed away, it was so red and swollen, protruding from me so much I could see it just by looking down my body.
Then he returned with an alcohol wipe for it and a new shot.
My insides were cramping, clenching, aching so much I was sure I’d die. I cried so hard I couldn’t see through my tears, but I felt him moving between my legs again. Something hard, sharp, and metal pressed into my clit, poking through from one side all the way to the other.
I gasped for breath against the pain.
“This is a special little piercing,” he said, flicking against it. “It’s electrified and operates wirelessly. Any time I want, I can press a button—” he must have pressed it, because white heat shot straight through my whole body, originating at my clit— “and send you a jolt.”
I would have collapsed from the pain if not for the steel bars holding me up.
He stood and started the process on my right nipple, not
stopping until he’d pierced it with an identical ring to the one in my clit. By the time he had pierced both nipples, I was on the verge of passing out from pain, yet the orgasm that had started when he was suckling my clit still hadn’t stopped.
Before he released me from the bars in the shower, he inserted a catheter into my urethra, put an IV port in my arm, and forced a feeding tube up my nose and down my throat. Finally, he injected the sensitivity shots into my clit and both nipples.
Then he carried me out into a hallway he had never allowed me to enter before. At least he didn’t make me crawl this time. I didn’t think I’d be able to, not after all the extra enhancements he’d just given me.
At the end of the long hall, he opened a huge, black door. My breath caught in my throat when he took me inside. Easily two hundred chairs or more were set up in a giant circle, surrounding a table in the center of the room. A spotlight shone down in the middle, highlighting ropes and other restraints hanging from the ceiling and coming up from the floor.
He carried me all the way to the center of the room and set me down on my knees. Immediately, he set to work restraining me. My arms were bound together at the elbows and wrists, and then drawn up over my head where a leather cuff came down over my hands and wrists. He messed with a pulley, and I was lifted up off the floor until even if I stretched, my toes wouldn’t reach. Still, he drew me higher, until my feet were at least six inches or more off the ground.
Then he put a spreader bar between my knees, and another between my ankles, both of them much longer than any he’d used on me before, forcing my legs wide so my sex was completely exposed and the muscles and tendons in my legs ached like crazy. He tugged the one between my ankles up behind me and back, fastening it into place so my back was arched in an insane angle. He lowered my arms slightly, drawing them forward, until both my head and my pussy and ass were at a good angle for fucking.
He grabbed my hair and tied it in a hard knot, then attached it to a hook or something above me, preventing me from moving it even an inch. Another metal hook lowered down beside me, and he used it to hang my catheter bag, the bag of IV fluids, and whatever would send nourishment into my belly.
After removing a thin, metal chain from his pocket, he drew one end of it through each of the rings he’d just inserted into my nipples and clit, pulling it snug before stretching the chain down to connect to a hook in the floor beneath me.
A blindfold came over my eyes, and a spider gag got forced between my teeth.
“Try to sleep now, because it’s the last chance you’ll get for a long time.”
As a final touch, he lowered noise-cancelling headphones over my ears and then gave me a little shove on the shoulder, proving to me that even the tiniest of movements would hurt like the dickens.
Then I was alone.
Needless to say, I hadn’t slept a wink (regardless of all the practice I’d had lately) before I felt the touch, even though it had been hours.
My bladder felt so full, pressing against my lower abdomen and stretching my belly something awful, that I was sure it would explode at any moment, but he’d stoppered the catheter, preventing me from peeing. My arms and legs and back had never hurt so much in all my life, and considering the last month that was saying something. The dildos in my pussy and ass felt like they were ripping me apart, and still I kept feeling tighter. Even without him zapping me with electricity in my piercings, my clit and nipples felt as big as grapes and more painfully sensitive than I could have ever imagined.
The touch felt like someone had taken a rusty sword and used it to slice my clitoris in two. I screamed out in agony, both hating and loving the fact that that was all it took to kick off a new orgasm. I jerked and writhed, which tugged on my limbs and hair and put crazy pressure on my nipples and clit. The orgasm only seemed to multiply, exploding into a dozen other orgasms, and I screamed out through the gag. Strong fingers pushed against my clit, rubbing and pinching and digging fingernails into my flesh. Fingernails, not a rusty sword. Christ, how was it possible for a fingernail to do that to me?
My scream died off quickly, because within moments a hard, hot cock was pressing through the ring between my teeth, forcing its way deep into my throat in a single thrust.
Strong hands were all over me, too many to count, squeezing and tugging and pinching and pulling and slapping and spanking. Hands on my breasts, on my back, on my thighs, on my belly, on my pussy, on my ass. Hands reached between my legs and toyed with the dildos inside me, fucking me hard with them before pulling the one in my ass out and replacing it with a cock.
By then, the man in my mouth had shot his load of cum deep down my throat. I was gurgling on it, trying to swallow all of his semen so I didn’t drown in it, but another cock was thrusting through the ring between my teeth.
Time no longer made any sense. Minutes, hours, days. All I knew was fucking.
The dildo in my cunt was ripped out and replaced by a real cock at some point. They kept rotating, so there was always someone fucking me. Some of them dug their hands into my hips, rutting up hard into me so that each thrust jerked my body wildly against my restraints. The men fucking my throat grabbed me by the knot of hair, and it felt like giant chunks of my hair would rip free from my head.
Through it all, I couldn’t stop my orgasm to save my life. I kept getting little electrical jolts to my clit and tits, forcing the climax to climb ever higher instead of allowing it to taper off. The dicks thrusting into my cunt and my ass felt huge, brutal, pounding into my raw flesh over and over and over again.
I must have serviced at least three dozen cocks already, and every tiny movement was putting more pressure on my full-to-bursting bladder by the time the valve on my catheter was released. There was hardly a moment to feel relief, though, because my bladder immediately started to fill again, and still they kept fucking me.
I felt cum dripping and oozing out of my ass and sex and coating my face, and still more cocks kept entering me.
On and on the fuck-fest went, for hours, days, I didn’t know. All I knew was sex, pain, sensation, heat, need.
Then finally, it was still. Quiet. Dark.
Punishingly hard jets of ice cold water woke me, juddering into my abused sex and ass. Only when I heard my muffled scream did I realize the headphones were gone.
I blinked, and in the bright spotlight I saw dozens of men staring back at me from the circles of chairs…men of all different races, shapes, and sizes, a hundred or more of them in all, most of them stroking their very erect cocks as they watched me.
They must have removed my blindfold too, then, if I could see.
I’d been straightened so I was hanging vertically, my arms straight up overhead and my legs still attached to the spreader bars, with my ankles pulled taut and hooked to the floor. My toes still couldn’t touch down for balance, and taking a breath required me to pull myself up by the arms to relax the pressure on my rib cage.
The entirely-too-familiar penis gag was now pressed tight between my teeth instead of the spider gag from before.
I shivered and shuddered as the water continued to pound into me, over me, around me for way too long. It was when I felt hands on my lower abdomen, though—big, strong hands pressing against my insanely swollen bladder—that my tears started flowing.
Whoever he was, he was behind me, his huge cock grinding against my ass cheeks as he kneaded my abdomen. Another man was on his knees before me with the water hose, and he worked the nozzle into my pussy.
Even though I knew it was coming, the intensity of the sensation was more than I could bear. Freezing jets of water blasted into my cunt, and all the while he thrust the nozzle into my sex over and over again in a hard, fast fucking motion.
I couldn’t have stopped the screams and tears if I’d tried.
Somehow through the haze of sensation, I saw him come up before me. Sir. My Master. The man I was indentured to, and who had initiated it all.
He came up beside me, his big, strong h
and cupping my cheek and turning me to look at him. I whimpered into my penis gag, pleading with my eyes for god only knows what. An end to it? Something more? I couldn’t tell you.
Then he placed a tender, chaste kiss on my forehead just before releasing the stopper on my catheter tube.
As soon as my bladder started to empty, a fresh orgasm took me.
My eyes started to roll into the back of my head from the overwhelming pleasure-pain, but just before I lost the ability to see, I recognized the remote control in his hand.
The piercings in my clit and nipples jumped to life, and I blacked out again.
After that, it was a long time before I saw him again.
I’m sure it was days. It might have been weeks.
Each time I would come to, I’d be restrained in some crazy position or another. Usually I was being fucked senseless by a cock or three. Sometimes it was dildos or other…well, other objects of unknown origins. Other times, I was being flogged, whipped, spanked, zapped, or in some other way punished. Or was it pleasured? It was difficult to know the difference any longer.
I was always experiencing an orgasm, though, or at least one started pretty fast.
I couldn’t tell you how many men I fucked or how many different positions I was placed in. They seemed to take me in turns, some of them resting and renewing their vigor while others continued to use me.
Sometimes I slept through it, like I’d learned to do. Other times, the intensity of sensation was more than my body could process and I blacked out.
The IV was a constant, as were the catheter and the feeding tube. I became increasingly proficient at breathing around objects, human or otherwise, that might have been blocking my airway.
Gradually, though, it seemed as though the number of men using me was diminishing. There were more non-human objects inserted into me, fewer hands touching me, not nearly as many voices in the background or men watching the show.
